Once while he was meditating, deep in the Chiang Mai
mountains, Ãcariya Mun saw a vision of a woman and a
small novice walking back and forth through the
area, nearly every night in the late hours. Becoming
suspicious after a while, he asked why they were
there. They told him that they were worried about
the fate of an unﬁnished stupa which they were
building together when they died. The small novice
was the woman’s younger brother, and they had worked
together to construct the stupa. Their concern about
the stupa and their regrets at having died before
its completion made them feel a strong, persistent
obligation to it. Although reborn into a state of
anxiety, they were not as tormented by it as might
be expected. Still, they could not feel decisive
about being reborn into another realm of existence.

So Ãcariya Mun advised them: “You should not be
concerned about things that have already come and
gone, for they are truly irredeemable. No matter how
convinced you may be that you can turn back the
clock – it’s just not possible. Anyone supposing
they can will experience nothing but frustration
when their hopes fail to materialize. The future,
having yet to come, shouldn’t be clung to either.
What has already happened should be let go of as
being past. What has yet to arrive should be let go
of as its time is not yet ripe. Only in the present
is it possible to accomplish something meaningful.

“If
your dream of building that stupa were meant to come
true, then you would have had a chance to ﬁnish it ﬁrst
instead of dying unexpectedly. Now you are trying to
deny death. Not only that, you still long to
complete the stupa even though it is now wholly
impossible. So, now you have erred twice in your
thinking. If you continue on hoping to fulﬁll this
wish, you will compound your mistake yet a third
time. Not only is your thinking affected by this,
but your future state of birth and your well-being
in that state will also be adversely affected. Such
an unreasonable aspiration should not be allowed to
continue

“In
building a stupa, we hope to acquire merit and
goodness – not bricks and mortar. The value you
obtain from building a stupa is the merit that you
gain from this action – merit which results from
your efforts and which rightly belongs to you. You
shouldn’t worry about gross material things like
bricks and mortar that can never fulﬁll your desires
anyway. People everywhere who gain merit by doing
good deeds take with them only the merit they’ve
thus acquired, not the material things they gave
away as donations. For example, contributing to the
construction of a monastery, a monk’s residence, an
assembly hall, a road, a water tank, a public
building, or any other offering of material goods,
are simply the outward manifestations of the good
intentions of those wishing to be generous. They are
not the actual rewards of generosity, meaning that
material offerings themselves are not merit or
goodness or heaven or Nibbãna, nor are they the
recipient of such rewards. For, over time, all
material things disintegrate and fall apart.

“The
spiritual qualities that are gained from the effort
and the generosity required to do charitable works
are experienced internally as merit and goodness.
The inspiration behind the good intentions to make
such donations is the heart of each individual
donor. The heart itself is virtuous. The heart
itself is meritorious. It is the heart that exists
as heaven or magga, phala and Nibbãna, and the heart
that achieves these attainments. Nothing else could
possibly achieve them.

“The
unﬁnished stupa that you two were building lacked
the conscious capacity to have good intentions for
its own spiritual improvement. Your concern for it
stems from a covetous mentality that is a hindrance
to you even though it is directed at holding on to
something good. Clinging to it is not in your best
interest. Your procrastination here is retarding
your progress to a favorable rebirth. Instead of
trying to take the whole thing with you, had you two
been satisﬁed with the merit you made from working
on that stupa, you would both have comfortably gone
on to a favorable existence long ago – for merit is
the mainstay of a good rebirth. And merit is never
transformed into something bad. It remains virtuous
forever – akãliko.

“It’s
a mistake to be unduly concerned for things past.
There is no way you can possibly ﬁnish that stupa
now, so you shouldn’t set your hearts on such a
hopeless endeavor. The power of the merit you have
made impacts you here in the present. So, don’t
waste your time thinking about the past or the
future when now you should be reaping the good
results of what you’ve already done. Correct your
thinking and soon you will be able to pass on, free
of anxiety. Turn your attention to the present. It
contains all the virtues necessary for magga, phala,
and Nibbãna. The past and the future are impediments
you must overcome without wasting any more time.

“I
feel really sorry for you two. You’ve done some very
meritorious work for the sake of a happy future,
only to get so bogged down in your attachment to
mere bricks and mortar that you can’t freely move
on. If you both make the effort to cut these
attachments from your hearts, before long you will
be free of all binding ties. The strength of your
accumulated merit is ready and waiting to take you
to the rebirth of your choice.”

Ãcariya Mun then explained to them the essential
meaning of the ﬁve moral precepts, a code of conduct
applying equally to all living beings.

First: Every living being values its own life, so no
one should destroy that intrinsic value by taking
someone else’s life. This results in very bad kamma.

Second: All beings cherish their own possessions.
Even if they don’t appear to have much value, the
owner values them nonetheless. Regardless of its
worth, nothing belonging to another person should be
debased by theft or robbery. For such actions debase
not only their possessions, but their hearts as
well. Stealing is a terrible act – so never steal.

Third: Husbands and wives, children and
grandchildren, all love each other dearly. They do
not want to see anyone taking liberties with their
loved ones. Their personal rights should be
respected and their private space should be off
limits to others. Spousal infringement is extremely
damaging to people’s hearts, and as such is an act
of incalculable evil.

Fourth: Lies and prevarication destroy other
people’s trust, causing them to lose all respect.
Even animals abhor deceit, so one should never hurt
others by using false, deceitful language.

Fifth: Alcohol is by its very nature intoxicating
and immensely harmful. Drinking it can cause a
perfectly normal person to go crazy and steadily
waste away. Anyone wishing to remain a normal, sane
human being should refrain from drinking any form of
liquor because it damages physical and mental
health, eventually destroying people and everyone
else around them.

Each of these ﬁve moral precepts has its own special
beneﬁts. By maintaining the ﬁrst one, we can expect
to enjoy good health and longevity. By the second,
our wealth and property will be safe from criminal
attack or other misfortune. By the third, family
members will keep faith with each other, and live
contentedly without unwanted interference. With the
fourth, we will be trusted because of our integrity.
When our speech is charming and pleasant, humans and
devas alike will respect and cherish us. Honest
people pose no threat to themselves or anyone else.
And by maintaining the ﬁfth precept, we will be
clever, intelligent people who are not easily
misguided nor readily thrown into confusion.

People who maintain moral virtue tend to reassure
living beings everywhere by promoting a sense of
satisfaction and mutual trust. Immoral people, on
the other hand, cause untold suffering by harming
people and animals all over the world. Those who
value their own existence should understand that all
people value themselves similarly, and should,
therefore, refrain from harming others in any
manner. Due to the
supportive, protective power of moral virtue,
honest, virtuous people can expect to be reborn into
an elevated, heavenly existence. Thus it is vital to
maintain high moral standards – the result will
surely be a heavenly destination in the next life.
Remember this Dhamma teaching, practice it
diligently, and your future prosperity is assured.

By the time Ãcariya Mun ﬁnished advising the small
novice and his sister, both were delighted by his
teaching and requested the ﬁve moral precepts from
him, which he gave them. Having received the moral
precepts, they respectfully took leave of Ãcariya
Mun, and immediately vanished. The power of their
accumulated merit and the goodness they cultivated
from attending to his discourse and taking the ﬁve
precepts, led the two to be quickly reborn in the
Tãvatiÿsa heavenly realm.

They then regularly visited Ãcariya Mun to hear his
teaching. On their ﬁrst visit they thanked him for
his kind assistance in illuminating the way out of
the vicious cycle they were in, allowing them to ﬁnally
enjoy the pleasure of the heavenly existence they
had anticipated for so long. They told him that they
now realized the great danger that attachments pose
to the heart, and the delay they can cause in moving
on to a favorable birth. Having received his
compassionate advice, they were able to transcend
all their concerns and be reborn in a heavenly
realm.

Ãcariya Mun explained the nature of emotional
attachments to them, pointing out that they are a
hindrance in many different ways. The wise always
teach us that at the moment of death we should be
careful not to have emotional attachments to
anything whatsoever. The danger is that we may
recall, then, an infatuation of some kind, or even
worse, angry, revengeful thoughts about a particular
person. The moment when the citta is about to leave
the physical body is crucial. If at that moment the
citta latches on to a pernicious thought, it may get
burned and end up being reborn into a realm of
misery, such as one of the hells, or a world of
demons, ghosts, or animals – all miserable,
unfavorable existences.

So when we’re in a good position to train the citta
– when we are in human birth and fully cognizant of
ourselves – we must take decisive advantage of it.
As human beings, we can realize our shortcomings and
quickly act to correct them, so that, later, when
our backs are against the wall – at the time of
death – we will be fully prepared to fend for
ourselves. We need not be worried about falling prey
to the destructive forces of evil. The more we train
ourselves to sever all emotional attachments, both
good and bad, the better our position will be.

The wise know that the heart is the most important
thing in the whole universe, for material and
spiritual welfare are dependent upon the heart. So,
they make a point of training their hearts in the
correct way and then teach others to do the same. We
live by means of the heart, and experience
contentment and dissatisfaction by means of the
heart. When we die, we depart by means of the heart.
We are then born again according to our kamma – with
the heart as the sole cause. As it is the sole
source of everything that befalls us, we should
train our hearts in the right way so that we can
conduct ourselves properly now and in the future.

When Ãcariya Mun ﬁnished speaking the newly reborn
devas were overjoyed by his teaching. Praising it
highly, they said they had never heard anything
quite like it before. Upon their departure, they
circumambulated him three times, then withdrew to
the edge of his living area before ﬂoating up into
the air like wisps of cotton borne by the wind.

ONCE, WHILE LIVING in a deep mountainous region of
Chiang Mai, far from the nearest village, Ãcariya
Mun saw an extraordinary nimitta arise in his
meditation. The hour was three A.M., a time when the
body elements are especially subtle. He had just
awoken from sleep and was sitting in meditation when
he noticed that his citta wanted to rest in complete
tranquility. So, he entered into a deep state of
samãdhi where he remained for about two hours. Then,
his citta began withdrawing gradually from that
state and paused at the level of upacãra samãdhi
instead of returning to normal, waking
consciousness. Immediately, he became aware of
certain events.

A huge elephant appeared. Walking up to Ãcariya Mun,
it knelt before him, indicating that it wanted him
to mount. Ãcariya Mun promptly climbed up onto its
back and sat straddling its neck. Once he was
settled on the elephant, he noticed two young monks
following behind him, both riding on elephants.
Their elephants were also very large, though
slightly smaller than the one he was riding. The
three elephants appeared very handsome and majestic,
like royal elephants that possess human-like
intelligence and know their master’s wishes. When
the two elephants reached him, he led them toward a
mountain range that was visible directly ahead,
about half a mile away.

Ãcariya Mun felt the whole scene to be exceptionally
majestic, as though he were escorting the two young
monks away from the world of conventional reality
forever. Upon reaching the mountain range, his
elephant led them all to the entrance of a cave that
was situated on a hill a short distance up the
mountainside. As soon as they arrived, it turned
around, placing its rear to the entrance. With
Ãcariya Mun still straddling its neck, it backed
into the cave until its rear was touching the back
wall. The other two elephants with the two young
monks astride walked forward into the cave and each
took a place on either side of Ãcariya Mun’s
elephant, facing inward as he faced outward. Ãcariya
Mun then spoke to the two monks as if he were giving
them his ﬁnal, parting instructions.

“I
have reached my ﬁnal hour of birth in a human body.
Having been completely cut off, perpetual existence
in the conventional world will soon cease altogether
for me. Never again shall I return to the world of
birth and death. I want you both to return and fully
develop yourselves ﬁrst; then, before long, you will
follow in my footsteps, departing this world in the
same manner as I am preparing to do now. Escaping
from the world, with its multitude of lingering
attachments and all of its debilitating pain and
suffering, is an extremely difﬁcult task that
demands unwavering commitment. You must exert
yourselves and pour every ounce of energy into the
struggle for this righteous cause – including
crossing the very threshold of death – before you
can expect to attain freedom from danger and
anxiety. Once freed, you will never again have to
deplore death and grasp at birth in the future.

“Having
completely transcended every residual attachment, I
shall depart this world unperturbed, much like a
prisoner released from prison. I have absolutely no
lingering regrets about losing this physical body –
unlike most people whose desperate clinging causes
them immense suffering at the time of death. So you
should not mourn my passing in any way, for nothing
good will come of it. Such grief merely promotes the
kilesas, so the wise have never encouraged it.”

When he ﬁnished speaking, Ãcariya Mun told the two
young monks to back their elephants out of the cave.
Both elephants had been standing perfectly still,
one on either side, as though they too were
listening to Ãcariya Mun’s parting words and
mourning his imminent departure. At that moment, all
three elephants resembled real, living animals,
rather than mere psychic images. At his command, the
two elephants, carrying the young monks, slowly
backed out of the cave, facing Ãcariya Mun with an
imperiously calm demeanor all the while. Then, as
Ãcariya Mun sat astride its neck, the hindquarters
of Ãcariya Mun’s elephant began to bore its way into
the cave wall. When half of the elephant’s body had
penetrated the wall of the cave, Ãcariya Mun’s citta
began to withdraw from samãdhi. The nimitta ended at
that point.

Having never experienced such an unusual nimitta
before, Ãcariya Mun analyzed it and understood its
meaning as being twofold. Firstly, when he died, two
young monks would attain Dhamma after him, though he
didn’t specify who they were. Secondly, samatha and
vipassanã are valuable assets for an Arahant to have
from the time of his initial attainment until the
time he passes away. During this whole period, he
must rely on samatha and vipassanã to be his ‘Dhamma
abodes’, easing the discomfort that is
experienced between the citta and the ﬁve khandhas,
which remain interdependent until that moment –
popularly known as ‘death’
– when the mundane khandhas and the transcendent
citta22 go their separate ways. At death, samatha
and vipassanã cease to function, disappearing like
all other mundane phenomena. Following that, nothing
further can be said.

Most people would have been terriﬁed to see the
elephant they were riding bore its rear end into the
wall of a cave. But in the event, Ãcariya Mun felt
unperturbed – he simply allowed the elephant to
complete its appointed task. At the same time, it
was heartening for him to know that two young monks
would realize Dhamma around the time of his death,
either just before or soon after. He said it was
very strange that, in his parting instructions to
them, he spoke about his own impending death as
though his time had already come.

Unfortunately, Ãcariya Mun never revealed the names
of those two monks. Hearing this story from him, I
was so eager to ﬁnd out their names that I
completely neglected to consider my own
shortcomings. I kept trying to imagine which of my
fellow monks they might be.
I’ve kept an eye on
this matter ever since Ãcariya Mun passed
away. But even as I write his biography I still
don’t have a clue who these auspicious monks might
be. The more I think about it, the more I see the
folly of jumping to conclusions.

No one has admitted to being one of those monks –
which is understandable. Who would publicize their
attainments like that? Such achievements are not
rotten ﬁsh to be peddled about merely to attract a
swarm of ﬂies. Anyone attaining that level of Dhamma
must possess a very high degree of intelligence and
propriety. Would he then be so stupid as to
broadcast his achievements so that fools could laugh
at him while the wise deplore it? Only the gullible
would get excited about such news – like those in
the story of the panic-stricken rabbit who, hearing
a loud thud, imagined the sky was caving in.

My own foolishness about this matter has eventually
subsided, so I have written it down for your
consideration. I deserve blame for any impropriety
here, for such stories are usually shared only
between a teacher and his inner circle of disciples
so that no one is adversely affected. I know I
deserve the criticism, and I hope, as always, that
you will be kind enough to forgive me.